


Breath of Life

by Steerpike13713, Zappy



Series: Mila Verse [12]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steerpike13713/pseuds/Steerpike13713, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zappy/pseuds/Zappy
Summary: Hybrids are always tricky when it comes to medical issues. Julian discovers those dangers firsthand when Mila develops a problem that isn't easy to fix.





	Breath of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the help of my dear Cat, thank you for correcting my many spelling errors.
> 
> If anyone's curious, I try to keep the relationship tags as platonic between Julian and Garak for the stories dating before their first date.
> 
> Also, the hurt/comfort is between Mila and Julian, not Julian and Garak.

It started not long after the whole business of Natima Lang and her visit to the station. In hindsight, it had probably been going on since long before that, but that was when it really started to get serious. Mila had been quiet and sluggish for a while now - at least a couple of weeks. At first, Julian had thought it was just the adjustment. The station was colder than Bajor, and Mila’s system was at least partially reptilian, of course she’d have trouble with it. He dropped in on Garak, put in an order for warmer clothes and raised the heat in their quarters even further, and for a little while that seemed to do the trick. Looking back, afterwards, he could’ve kicked himself for not noticing, but he’d been so busy, there had been so many other problems and he knew so little, still, about Cardassian physiology that it still managed to catch him unawares. But in the beginning, it hadn’t seemed like much. That Mila preferred to sit and play quietly, wasn’t much for sports, seemed to tire more easily...well, Jules had been the same way, he remembered that much, and there’d been nothing _physically_ wrong with him. He’d thought he was being paranoid, overprotective - he’d been told that he was a bit sensitive when it came to Mila. Odo had been particularly clear on that point.

“All new parents are like that,” Dax reassured him when he brought it up to her one lunchtime. “I remember the way Audrid was when her son was first born - she used to get up and check on him every couple of hours in the night, as if he’d suddenly disappear or something if she didn’t look in on him every five minutes.”

“Nice to know I’m not the only one,” Julian had said, and smiled. “I’m overreacting again, then?”

He’d never thought of himself as that sort of parent, somehow. Well, all right, he’d never thought he’d ever be a parent, but if he’d ever considered it, this wasn’t the sort of parent he’d expected to be. The sort who _worried_ all the time, who reacted to every trifling problem as if it were a hundred times worse than it really was. But Mila...she’d been hurt so badly already. Was it wrong of him, to want to keep her from any further pain?

Putting his worry aside for a while, he didn’t think much of it when Keiko asked to see him for a minute one day when he picked Mila up from school, the day after Professor Lang and her students’ departure.

“Is everything alright at home with Mila, Julian?”

Julian frowned, thinking back over the last few weeks. “She’s been having nightmares,” he offered, “About what happened with Gul Dukat and the business with the Harvesters last month. Why, has she mentioned any of them to you?” He could cheerfully have strangled Dukat for frightening Mila like that, so soon after Julian’s presumed death, but even those were starting to fade away now. It had been more than a week since the last one, unless Mila wasn’t telling Julian something, and he hoped she knew enough to know she could always come to him if she needed it.

“No, nothing like that. Actually, it’s because she’s not engaging with anyone that I’m worried. She doesn’t really socialize, and I love that she’s friends with Molly, but she doesn’t talk to any of her classmates.”

“Were you expecting her to?” Julian asked, blinking, “I seem to remember a few of her classmates talking about locking her in a freezer and _eating her_ a few months ago - would _you_ want to spend much time with people who’d treated you like that?” He shook his head. “I worry about it too, but since I’m apparently not allowed to involve myself-”

“Calling Constable Odo was maybe taking things a little far,” Keiko agreed, wincing. “But aside from not socializing, she doesn’t seem to have the energy to really play, and she’s fallen asleep in class a few times. You mentioned she’s been having nightmares?”

“For the past month or so, yes,” Julian raked a hand through his hair, “But she hasn’t had one in more than a week - I thought they might be starting to fade. I suppose it might be partly down to the heat issue? Cardassians often have trouble with station standard temperatures - Garak complains about them often enough, and it’s probably even worse for children.”

“Well, I could have Miles up the temperature in the classroom a few degrees, probably not what would be ideal, because I do have to think of the other kids as well, but five degrees shouldn’t hurt.” Keiko offered diplomatically with a half-smile. “Not having to wear jackets in class I think will be welcomed pretty well.”

“Thank you.”

And that, he had thought, had been the end of it. Mila had seemed happy, if tired, and if she ended up going to bed almost as soon as they were home, pleading a headache when Julian tried to suggest a trip to the holosuites to play the _Aladdin_ programme that had become Mila’s new favourite since Molly had introduced her to it...well, he tried to remind himself that fussing this much over a headache was overdoing it and Mila would probably be fine by morning. He curled up with Garak’s latest recommendation - a Cardassian historical novel called _The Flowers of Masad_ \- instead, and tried to ignore the part of him that was screaming at him to at least go in with headache tablets, even if Mila had refused them. He could just leave them on her bedside table, in case it got bad enough that she wanted them in the night.

In the morning, Mila woke up gasping when Julian shook her, coughing and spluttering for air for a few seconds, her little face screwed up against the light. Julian put an arm around her to steady her, alarmed as she hacked and coughed, half-falling against him before she caught her breath.

“Mila?” he asked, keeping his voice carefully soft and calm - she panicked if he talked too loudly, even now - “Are you- Can you breathe all right?”

“I’m- I’m okay. I’m good.”

Julian frowned, and kissed her forehead to check her temperature, just on the spoon, making Mila giggle breathlessly. “Are you sure? Maybe we should get you checked out-”

“No, no, it was just- nightmares again. I’m okay, Daddy.” Mila’s eyes were very wide now, and Julian bit down the urge to find Gul Dukat and- He didn’t know what he would do to Gul Dukat having found him, but it would probably be _something_ awful..

“Nightmares? What about?” He put an arm around her and tugged her against his side - her heart was beating very fast, she must’ve been terrified. “You could’ve woken me up, you know.”

“I c-couldn’t wake up.” Mila blinked back tears and sniffles as she buried her face in his chest. “Everything was cold and I couldn’t breathe and the _Gul_ was there and I couldn’t find you and…”

“Shhh, shh. I know. It was just a dream. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.” His arms tightened around her, and he had to force his voice to stay steady for the next bit. “Now - get dressed. Major Kira apparently has something special planned for your lesson with her this week - she wouldn’t tell me what.”

“Okay!” Mila rubbed her face against his shirt, likely drying the few tears there were and slid down off the bed to grab an orange sweater-dress Julian had got from Garak, freshly insulated for the chill of the station.

She seemed distracted through breakfast, and he had to slow his steps more than usual to avoid outpacing her on the way to Kira’s quarters. Was he right to be worried about that? Or was it just the cold and the lack of restful sleep making Mila seem more tired than usual? He ought to at least try to get her into sickbay at some point over the next few days - she hadn’t been back there as a patient since her first check-up, just a few days after she arrived on the station, and she would probably be due for another soon enough. If she _was_ coming down with something, best to know early.

The Major seemed to have been waiting for them, as her door slid open almost as soon as Julian had rung the chime.

“Good morning Mila! Doctor.” Kira greeted them, a warm smile for his little girl, and a more professional one for him. Julian didn’t take it personally, Mila was starshine itself, it was hard not to smile at her.

“Hi, Major. Do I get to find out what you have planned for the day?” Julian asked, smiling awkwardly back. He hoped it wasn’t anything too exhausting - if Mila really was coming down with some sort of bug, he didn’t want to tire her out before he could get her to sickbay.

“Today’s agenda is some of my favorite folklore, back before the Occupation. Sound fun, Mila?”

“Like the one about how the hara cat caught the sun?” Mila asked around a cough, sounding interested...but maybe not quite as enthusiastic as she had been a few weeks ago, the first time Kira started telling her stories from Dakhur Province during one of their lessons.

Julian winced. “I think she might be coming down with something,” he admitted in a low voice, when Kira glanced at him. “Try not to tire her out too much? She’s been a bit lethargic for a few days now.”

“Well, we’ll just be sitting down, maybe having a snack later if she gets hungry, so I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thank you, Major - Mila, I’ll see you later, all right?” Julian added, ruffling her hair, “Try to behave yourself?”

“Will do, bye, Dad.” Mila gave a little wave as Julian turned to go, perhaps a little less enthusiastic than others, but Julian hoped her time with the Major would help cheer her up, maybe get her mind off her nightmares.

It was a fairly quiet morning in the Infirmary. A Klingon ship had docked, which meant the usual array of minor injuries among the officers and a few extra vaccinations, but nothing out of the ordinary. Really, the biggest problem whenever Klingon ships happened to turn up on DS9 was the sheer number of injuries that resulted from a culture where most of a ship’s officers were attempting to assassinate most of said ship’s other, more senior, officers. If Julian had to treat one more case of ‘tripped and cut myself on my bat’leth’, he was going to go mad. Thankfully, by lunchtime the flood had slowed almost to a trickle, and Julian was free to leave and pick up Mila before things got any worse.

He passed a few more Klingons on the way across to the habitat ring, including a pair of older men who had their heads together, talking frantically in quiet tlhIngan Hol, but didn’t pay it much mind, still busy trying to mentally compose a report to Commander Sisko about the rate of bat’leth related injuries from Klingon ships and why said Klingon ships’ own, perfectly capable, doctors couldn’t deal with the issue themselves because that was just too many bat’leths for Julian to deal with alone. He was grinning to himself by the time he reached Kira’s quarters, at the thought of the report he knew he would never send, but the grin slid off his face at Kira’s expression when the door slid open.  
“Major? What is it, is Mila-?”

“I think you need to take her to the infirmary. She said she felt like she was choking halfway through a story. I had her lay down and she’s seemed calmer but…” Kira trailed off, leading Julian into her quarters, where Mila was lying down on the couch, her eyes closed and her breath coming slow and laboured.

“And you didn’t comm sickbay when it happened?” Julian nearly snapped, almost dropping to his knees at Mila’s side and putting a hand to her throat. Her pulse was fast but weak, irregular, fluttering like a bird’s.

“It was fifteen minutes ago, she had a glass of water and after lying down started breathing easier. I knew you’d be here shortly so I didn’t think a call was necessary.” Kira explained with a slight huff, folding her arms across her chest as she watched Julian check Mila’s pulse again at her wrists.

He shook his head. “Right. I- I think I’m going to have to take her to sickbay, her heart’s going far faster than it ought to and her hands are like ice - did she mention any other symptoms?”

“She was cold, even after I turned up the heat as much as I could stand. Didn’t eat anything when I offered it an hour ago… Julian, is she going to be okay?”

Julian swallowed, his throat dry, trying to keep himself from panic. “I don’t know - I can’t tell for sure until I’ve given her a full examination.” He picked Mila up in a fireman’s carry, letting her head droop against his shoulder, her scales ice cold wherever they brushed against skin. It could be a minor complaint. He hoped it could. He knew so little, still, about Cardassians, and that was the side of Mila’s physiology that seemed to win out eight times out of ten, at least where her medical needs were concerned.

However, the scans, when they came through, told a very different story.

“Oxygen starvation!” Julian exclaimed, staring at the tricorder in horror. “But, I mean- I’ve never heard of either Cardassians or Bajorans needing a higher-oxygen environment before?” Bajorans, at least, he could be certain of - there were enough Bajoran refugees living in the Federation that they were included in Starfleet medical training - but he’d never heard anything about differences in atmosphere between Cardassia and Earth - both had the same sort of breathable atmosphere, and the same rough environmental requirements, temperature levels aside. He swallowed, and raised the tricorder to scan again. The same vitals showed up a few seconds later. No inflammation or swelling around the airways, but still not enough oxygen in any of her vital tissues, not enough in the bloodstream, and he didn’t know _why_. None of the symptoms were consistent with any Bajoran disease, and he didn’t know enough about Cardassian diseases to even begin to guess on that side.

Before he could decide what to do next, though, Mila’s eyes blinked open as her small frame was wracked with another bout of painful, hacking coughs. It tore at his heart and he had to close his eyes and focus inward just to keep calm. When he opened them again he didn’t see _his_ little girl, he saw _a_ little girl who needed to be treated.

“Dad...where am I?” Mila asked plaintively, her voice scratchy from her coughing.

“Shh, don’t talk, okay?” Julian replied, resting a hand on her forehead for a moment before turning back to his scans. He’d need a blood sample, for a more accurate analysis - and he’d need a look at the database, as well. Symptoms, causes, complications. All of those he could do. “You’re in sickbay. Mila? I’m going to need to take a little blood from you. It won’t sting for more than a moment, but you need to stay very still, do you understand?”

Her brown eyes were wide but she nodded slightly and Julian had to ignore the fear he saw reflected in her gaze.

Thankfully, he didn’t need very much blood, and though Mila made a choked, pained noise for a moment, she didn’t move enough to jog his hand and make matters worse.

“Very good,” Julian said soothingly, trying to call on his paediatrics training and not months of parenthood. It was one area where his bedside manner was actually considered to be reasonable - dealing with adult patients he tended to be a bit more hit-or-miss. “I’m going to need to run a few tests on this - but Nurse Jabara will be right here with you, all right? I’ll be just in the next room.”

She didn’t say anything, but given the circumstances and the fact he’d asked her not to talk if she could help it, it was understandable. Yet when he was in the next room, his enhanced hearing caught her asking Jabara when the nurse entered, “Is Daddy mad at me for being sick?”

“Of course not,” Jabara replied, sounding a little bemused. “Why would he be? Everyone gets sick sometimes - it’s not your fault.”

“But...he’s all…” Julian assumed Mila was making some sort of gesture she didn’t have the words to describe, and he had to put his tricorder down or risk cracking it. Taking deep breaths helped to bring him focus, had to focus, had to figure out why Mila wasn’t getting the oxygen she needed despite all environmental precautions. He couldn’t get distracted by the knowledge that he had failed her badly enough, somewhere down the line, that she could think he would _ever_ blame her for falling ill, that he was the sort of person who would treat the least illness as a flaw in her, and who would blame her for what flaws she had. He would do better, he promised her, though there was no way she could have heard it, and set to work.

He had no luck with the database on Bajoran diseases that had been provided by the Bajoran government, and the blood sample analysis didn’t turn up anything he didn’t already know - if he’d been looking at it in a vacuum he’d have said this was clearly just the effects of living in a low-oxygen environment too long, but that didn’t make any sense. That pointed to this probably being Cardassian in origin, which meant he either had to ask Commander Sisko for permission to apply to the Cardassians for information on respiratory diseases with similar effects...or he could go and ask Garak. But then, how much use would a spy be for anything but a very common ailment? And how much of an incentive did the Cardassian Central Command have to cooperate? He couldn’t exactly force them, and the wellbeing of one half-Cardassian child wouldn’t be enough, not for them. He rubbed at his eyes, wishing he could see a solution to this, but none came. Garak first, he decided. If this turned out to be a common Cardassian ailment, that could be nothing but good, and if not...then, he’d have to apply to Commander Sisko.

When he stepped back into the main part of sickbay, Mila was very still, breathing shallowly, her eyes slitted against the light. Jabara caught his eye, looking worried, and Julian swallowed.

“I’m going to have to talk to Garak - this isn’t a Bajoran condition, which means it’s probably something from the Cardassian side. It doesn’t seem to be viral, at least, so no need to worry about infection.” He brushed a hand over Mila’s hair, and she leant trustingly into him, making it even more difficult to drag himself away.

“Dad?” Mila croaked out, squinting up at him.

Julian looked down at her, “I should be back in a few minutes,” he promised, “Then…” Then _what_? Then he’d find a way to cure her? He could do it. He knew, rationally, that he could, and yet...fear was like hope turned inside-out, he knew. This probably wasn’t the end of the world, it probably wouldn’t kill her, probably soon enough this would be dealt with...and yet, he couldn’t help but think: what if he couldn’t?

Mila seemed to accept the half-sentence, because she closed her eyes and rasped, “Okay.” Julian couldn’t meet Nurse Jabara’s gaze as he left the infirmary but he lifted his head and walked with purpose to Garak’s Clothiers. Garak was attending to a customer when Julian stepped inside, the perfect salesman’s mask already in place. It was...calming, somehow, to see him like that. The whole station might descend into chaos and Julian doubted sometimes that Garak would even turn a hair.

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” he asked, as Garak’s customer disappeared off into one of the fitting rooms. “I need to pick your brains on Cardassian diseases, as the Occupational Government didn’t see fit to leave us a medical database.”

“Oh? I assure you my health is fine, whatever would you need such information for? Not to mention, I’m simply a tailor, the nearest thing to medicine I know is the art of sewing things together.” Garak answered with his usual smile, spreading his hands. “And aren’t stitches more than a little primitive, in this day and age?”

“This is serious, Garak. Is there a...a stage at which Cardassian children need more oxygen than Bajorans or humans do? Or any environmental factors that could set off respiratory problems? Symptoms resembling hypoxia, specifically - fatigue, shortness of breath, low blood oxygen content-”

“Shortness of breath? Less oxygen intake for no obvious reason?” Garak interrupted, looking suddenly serious.

“You’ve heard of this?”

Garak’s frown was grave and he looked away with a calculating glint in his eyes. “Only rarely. And only on Bajor.” His gaze snapped back to Julian, “This is about Mila, isn’t it.”

Julian nodded, unable to force words out. He was being ridiculous - they’d only just caught this condition, whatever it was, and it didn’t seem life-threatening yet. It could just be a Cardassian equivalent of croup, and that could be cured in five minutes on Earth with just one trip to the nearest chemist’s. He was out of his mind with worry already, where if this had been afflicting anyone else on the station he’d have been entirely calm and professional.

Garak tilted his head and looked hesitant, “I’m sorry to say, my dear doctor, that that is all that I know of the subject. There were _select individuals_ who were affected by what you described on Bajor during the Occupation.”

“Did these individuals have anything in common?” Julian asked, “Species, say? Was this a purely Cardassian condition? I haven’t seen any indication it’s common on Bajor today, there’s no mention of anything like this in their records - hypoxia is there, but only in the same ways it is for every oxygen-breathing species there is, there’s no mention of it when there’s nothing to prevent respiration in any way…”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I only knew...one who was afflicted, many years ago. We did not meet a second time.” Those last words sent ice through Julian’s blood.

“The condition was fatal?”

Please, please let him have misunderstood. There were a hundred other explanations, and Garak’s voice had been as carefully bland as it always was when his past was brought into the conversation. There _had_ to be something, there had always been before-

“The time I knew of it, yes.” Garak’s face was set, and Julian thought he might have gone pale beneath his scales.

“That’s _not_ going to happen this time.” He tapped his combadge. “Bashir to Sisko.”

“Sisko here.” The commander’s voice sounded weary, and Julian remembered that with Klingons on the station, that meant a lot of paperwork from Klingons causing damages to people and property. Quark had already been talking about sending complaints last night, before the Klingons even got there, presumably in the hope of financial restitution for damages that hadn’t been incurred yet.

“I’d like to request permission to ask the Cardassian government for information on a Cardassian medical condition. Respiratory in nature, apparently it has on occasion been fatal.” It took an active effort to keep his voice steady on that last bit. “I understand this is...irregular, Commander, but as the Bajorans have no information on it and my knowledge of Cardassian biology is still only partial-”

“Permission granted, doctor. But I don’t think you’ll manage to get much out of them.”

“Thank you, Commander. I’m sure the gloating at least will prove informative. Bashir out.” He cut the connection and glanced back at Garak, “I should go before your customer comes back - thanks for the information.”

“Ah, Doctor-” Garak interrupted before Julian could completely turn away, when Julian looked he saw concern on Garak’s face, not a common sight. “Just how...severe is Mila’s condition?”

“I don’t _know_ !” Julian admitted, furious with himself, “I thought it was just the cold at first - fatigue isn’t uncommon for reptilian species in station environments - and I don’t know what the later symptoms will be. It _looks_ like the early stages of hypoxia, but there’s no discolouration of the skin that I can see - assuming the scales didn’t just cover that up - and she’s still breathing without any need for mechanical assistance, so I’d say...mild, so far. But I can’t know for sure until I know what her condition is and what the symptoms are - you said you’d known a sufferer, did they say-?”

“They said rather little, at least about their condition. I only tangentially knew them, doctor, and medical issues are not things one discusses with a near-stranger, even one who is hemming their pants.”

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Julian said acidly. “In that case, I should go before things get any worse - hopefully the Cardassian government will know a bit more about this.”

As Julian left, tension making his stride more aggressive than he usually let himself be, he heard Garak speak though it was likely Garak hadn’t intended for him to hear at all, “You and I both, my dear doctor.” Julian chanced a look over his shoulder, and saw with some surprise how pained Garak’s expression was. Once Garak saw he was looking, the almost sickened look vanished under the mask he knew Garak wore near constantly. “And now - hadn’t you better be going?”

“I had,” Julian agreed, and left the shop, heading back across the Promenade towards sickbay and narrowly avoiding Quark and a more than usually sour-looking Constable Odo on the way over. When he got back, Mila’s breathing was still coming quick and laboured, but more regular than it had been, and there was a small device next to the biobed that was emitting fragrant steam.

He almost kicked himself for not thinking of attempting that to help ease her breathing before he left, but tried to turn his annoyance at himself into pride in his staff.

“Whose idea was this?” he asked Nurse Rijal, unable to keep his frustration with his own short-sightedness out of his voice.

Rijal’s posture showed defensiveness and hesitance in her voice when she replied, “It was Nurse Jabara’s idea, sir…”

“Tell her from me that she’s a genius,” Julian said, with feeling. “I hadn’t even thought of-” he shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll tell her myself. After I’ve finished wrangling the Central Command for access to their Science Ministry - it seems like they’re the only ones who might have any idea what this is.”

“Good luck, then. You’ll certainly need it to get anything out of _them_.” Rijal says with a slight huff of irritation that Julian sorely hopes is unwarranted in this case.

Julian only wished he didn’t share the same suspicions. He checked Mila’s pulse - still too fast, too irregular, though her breathing had eased a bit - and when she didn’t stir, went through to his office and began the subspace call to the Cardassians. The moment he saw the face on the other end of the call, he had to suppress a groan. Of all the people to have to beg medical information for Mila from, wouldn’t it just have to be Dukat?

“Doctor Bashir,” Dukat positively oozed out, “What brings you to request a call from Cardassia?”

“Medical requirements - as yet, Deep Space Nine has very little available information on Cardassian biology, and as one of the only Cardassians on the station is presently suffering from a condition no-one on Bajor has any information about, I need access to the Science Ministry’s resources to treat them.”  
The look on the Gul’s face is patronizing, “Doctor. Surely you can see why I cannot just simply _give_ you medical access.”

“I don’t need complete access,” Julian said irritably, “Just contact with a member of the Science Ministry who might be able to get the information necessary...for the sake of diplomatic relations, if nothing else.”

“Mm. And the risk of diplomatic relations is all for that tailor of yours, yes?”

“No, actually,” Julian said shortly. “The information I need is primarily on respiratory conditions, or anything mimicking the symptoms of hypoxia - oxygen starvation. No apparent environmental cause, but not viral either, are you familiar with it?”

Dukat’s brow ridges rose as Julian listed off the symptoms, and at the end he let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “There’s no need to give you access, Doctor, even partial access. I know exactly what is ailing your patient. And why it isn’t the tailor you’re concerned about. This is about his _daughter,_ isn’t it? Oh, the poetic justice.”

“ _Justice?_ ” Julian snapped, before he could stop himself. “Is this a common condition, then? Predominantly affecting children?”

A common childhood disease could be dealt with. Yes, diseases like that could kill, but there were a hundred factors - quality of medical care on Bajor during the Occupation had been very low for most of the populace, climate, quality of nursing, all of them were things that could be controlled.

“Oh, _indeed_. It’s called Reloth Syndrome, and it affects only specific children. Children of both Bajor and Cardassia.”

“It’s a hybridisation issue,” Julian translated, feeling an awful rush of relief. No wonder he hadn’t found it in the Bajoran diseases database. He hadn’t found half the minor complaints that plagued Mila in there. He could work with that. “I will want to speak to a member of the Science Ministry about treatment plans. Since you were... _kind_...enough to provide this much information already.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Doctor. If you’ll recall, the tailor on your station is also an exile. And, as our last meeting established, his _brat_ shares his fate. Cardassia does not concern herself with exiles or their health.”

Julian glared. “Cardassia may not, but given the number of disputes over the Demilitarised Zone, a bit of Starfleet goodwill couldn’t hurt. And my daughter is a Federation citizen by law. Imagine how many concessions that might be worth to Commander Sisko - we both know he’s fond of her.”

It was three-quarters lie, and he knew it. Sisko’s influence was limited, and nothing would convince him to give Dukat any but the barest minimum of concessions, even within his power, and Mila’s illness wouldn’t change that one bit. It couldn’t, with all of Bajor on the other side of the ledger. All he could do was hope that Dukat didn’t realise that, and it wasn’t much of a hope.

The Gul tapped his fingers on the console he was seated at, and narrowed his eyes at Julian. “Humans have an odd sense of sentimentality, doctor. You would be willing to offer so much for the sake of one little girl?” His voice dripped disbelief, and his look was skeptical, though his smile was wide and victorious.

“What happened to ‘family is the most important thing to a Cardassian’?” Julian fired back. “Is it so inconceivable that humans might feel the same way?”

“I find it very hard to believe any species holds family in the regard Cardassians do.” Dukat scoffed and then switched back to a smile, “You offer nothing of solidity, Doctor. You expect me to take it at your word that I might get something in return in some distant future?”

“Then what can I offer?” The words were out before he’d even stopped to consider them. He didn’t even know if he meant it or not.

Thankfully, maybe, Dukat seemed uninterested in any actual deal. “Nothing. You see, there’s nothing for you to trade for. Aside from studying the Reloth Syndrome, there’s nothing of interest in any database. _There is no cure_.”

“Not yet. Give me the information, and I’ll share the cure. No cost to Cardassia if I fail, and if I succeed-”

“If you succeed, Cardassia does not benefit. There are none afflicted in her borders, only on Bajor, and Bajor has shown itself entirely unwilling to accept Cardassia’s help in its development.”

Julian froze. “I see. Well, thank you for your time.”

He cut the transmission, his temper barely holding long enough to hear the chime before he kicked his desk and muttered something under his breath that he would never have dreamed of saying in Mila’s earshot. Another dead end...but not a complete one. Most cases were on Bajor, so if he wanted information, he’d have to look there. It was a hybridisation issue, which meant it was liable to be chronic, and the symptoms resembled hypoxia. Well, he’d worked on less before. And that was all assuming that Dukat had told the truth - a dangerous assumption all by itself.

Hours later, he still hadn’t left the infirmary. It was station night now, the day-shift nurses beginning to pack up to return to their quarters and the night shift coming in. Not that ‘day’ and ‘night’ really meant much, on a space station without so much as a sun to orbit. They used Bajoran mean time, taken from the capital city of Ashalla, but that was entirely arbitrary, chosen more for the comfort of the Bajoran crew than because it accurately reflected anything. Mila had slept through most of the afternoon, the steam from Jabara’s diffuser easing her breathing enough that it was almost peaceful. In desperation, Julian had actually had to corner Jabara and ask what the chemical composition of the steam was - it certainly wasn’t just water.

Every fifteen minutes it seemed he left his desk to check on her, worried out of his mind that the moment he turned his back Mila’s condition would turn for the worse. Already, greenish-yellow discolourations were starting to turn up on her scales. Just small spots, like mildew or leaf mould, but if they were showing on her scales, how far across the skin had they already spread?

Julian was looking over the simulation he was running on possible chemicals that could balance out her oxygen intake when he heard the doors to the infirmary open. He crossed to his office door, expecting another Klingon with a bat’leth injury, or possibly Chief O’Brien’s dislocated shoulder coming back again, and stopped short in the doorway at the sight of Garak, apparently attempting to negotiate his way past Rijal.

“No, I’m not here to check myself in, nurse. I’m simply here on a social obligation.”

“Doctor Bashir is busy,” Rij said shortly. “And I don’t think he’s going to have time for whatever it is.”

“That’s fine because it’s not the doctor I’m here to see.” Garak replied as Julian stepped out fully and joined their conversation.

“Garak, what are you doing here so late?”

“Late is a relative term, my dear doctor. But I’m here to...give Mila a small token.” Garak revealed a small box he’d had behind his back. There was a bow on the top, Mila’s favorite deep orange and tied perfectly.

“I’m not sure she’s in much of a state for visitors,” Rij said, glancing over at Julian. Before Julian could either confirm or protest that, Mila took the choice from their hands by waking up.

“Dad? Whoissit?” Her voice was heavy and slurred with sleep as well as still a bit raspy.

Julian looked back at her - was it his imagination, or were her neck-ridges starting to look faintly greenish now too? “Don’t tire her out too badly,” he said to Garak, “She’s still quite fatigued.”

“Doctor…” Rij hissed. Julian tilted his head at her, acknowledging her dissatisfaction but also ignoring it. Garak gave him a smile and walked past them to Mila’s bedside.

“Hello, my dear. I heard you weren’t feeling well.” His voice was softer, and Julian saw Mila attempt to sit up when she realized it was Garak. Just as Julian was about to step forward to stop her, Garak beat him to it by gently laying a hand on her shoulder and easing her back down, “Ah, ah, you need to lie still, I believe. I just dropped by to...give you something I’ve been meaning to pass along. Would you like me to open it for you?”

Mila gave him a plaintive look. No surprise - Garak took ages over unwrapping things, unlike Julian or Mila, both of whom were of the ‘rip off the packaging as fast as possible and never mind the mess’ school of thought. Hiding a smile, Julian took that step forward, “I’ll open it for you, if you’d like?”

Mila scowled, and tugged at the ribbon, pulling it away with a flourish Julian was pretty sure she’d learnt from Garak. Mila unwrapping a parcel looked a bit like a cartoon of two cats fighting. There was a cloud of dust, and at the end of it there was a pile of wrapping paper and Mila, doubled over with coughs but grinning from ear to ear.

“Lie back,” Julian said quickly, guiding her gently back down, “Come on, deep breaths…”

She listened to him, was also too busy prying the lid of the box off and reaching inside to retrieve-

“I did the best I could with the pictures I could find,” Garak was saying now, “But I fear it isn’t the easiest translation, and I may have made a few mistakes with the anatomy. They do look rather like Cardassian rhirzum, if that holoprogramme of yours is accurate, although rather defenceless by comparison.”

“Cats are usually kept as house pets, so they don’t really need to be that fearsome,” Julian said, blinking as Mila lifted a black-and-orange soft toy out of the box, roughly cat-shaped except for the two long sabre-like fangs hanging down from its jaws, and made of what looked like orange velvet with silky black stripes that looked as if they’d been patched on.

“Rajah!” Mila exclaimed with a smile, her eyes shining and alert like they hadn’t been for a while now.

Julian blinked. “...tigers, on the other hand, are usually considered one of the more dangerous animals on Earth,” he admitted, “Mila, remember to say-”

“Thank you, Yadik!” Mila coughed out, pulling the toy closer. She blinked. “It’s _warm_!”

“There’s a small heating device in the stuffing,” Garak said, brushing a hand very gently over her hair and down to the nape of her neck. “And, really, doctor, the _defencelessness_ of your Earth animals never fails to astonish me - none of the articles I found while looking for pictures of these ‘tigers’  mentioned so much as the most rudimentary venom sacs-”

“Perhaps it’s just that Cardassia’s wildlife has a tendency to resort to overkill,” Julian suggested, smiling slyly. He paused, “Are you all right? You look awful.”

“Oh, I’m fine, doctor. Just working a tad too much perhaps. I admit...I’ll likely be working well into tomorrow to finish the projects I was going to do today. After your visit earlier, I...rearranged priorities a bit.”

Julian stared. “You...Garak, that must’ve taken you-”

“Not long at all, and it certainly took care of spare bits of fabric I otherwise would have had to get rid of. It’s nothing, really.”

“Rajah is not nothing, he’s a fierce tiger and I love him!” Mila protested, glaring at them both.

Garak gave her an amused look. “Just a figure of speech, my dear. I did not intend to imply that... _Rajah_ was nothing.”

Mila gave a little huff at that, but her glare diminished, and though her breathing was still shallower than Julian would have liked, she was at least smiling now, with the toy tiger in her arms and her eyes bright with interest.

“Maybe we should let you rest for a little while,” Julian said quickly, “I’ve still got a few more tests to run to see if- that is, how we’re going to get you the oxygen you need.”

She nodded, though didn’t look as if she completely understood what he was looking for, and turned her gaze to Garak, “Yadik, would you like to see a full-size tiger?”

Garak blinked. “...yes, I suppose that would be interesting.”

Mila’s smile was wide and devious and Julian recognized it from someplace else. “I can show you one later! In _Aladdin_!”

Garak stopped. “I...ah...don’t think Chief O’Brien would be particularly pleased to have me tag along on one of you and Molly’s playdates,” he managed, casting an appealing look at Julian. He privately agreed to that, but he wasn’t about to tell Mila she couldn’t invite whoever she wanted.

Mila curled around the toy, looking tired and yet warm with the toy pressed close. “Just us then, just to see Rajah. The big one.”

Garak looked as if he wanted to argue, but then....something seemed to soften in him at the sight of her. “As you say,” he agreed, “I look forward to seeing how close I came.”

Seeing as Mila looked about ready to go back to sleep, Julian motioned for them both to leave her to it, though he brushed a hand over her hair before moving away.

“I’m still running simulations on ways to improve her oxygen intake,” he said, once they were safely in his office, “I can’t believe Dukat was telling the truth about there being no cure - the symptoms look too much like ordinary oxygen starvation for that, so I’m trying to treat it as I would any other form of hypoxia.” With the differences between mammalian and Cardassian biology, though, it was difficult not to feel the creeping suspicion that Dukat had been telling the truth as he knew it - that ordinary treatments would only exacerbate her condition. They’d already run into problems with the conventional medications for oxygen starvation, all of which seemed to rely on substances to which Mila was violently allergic.

“And what are the treatments for hypoxia?” Garak asked quietly, the direction Mila was in still in the corner of his eye even if he wasn’t looking directly that way.

Julian collected himself, and glanced down at the simulation - nearly done, he’d have to check again soon - “There are a few medications, but most of the conventional ones rely on substances that are allergens to either Cardassian or Bajoran systems, and since Mila seems to have inherited both sides’ intolerances I can’t prescribe any of those. We’ve had some luck with Jabara’s steam diffuser in the short term - there’s a herb from the Bajoran mountains that they use to infuse the steam, raising the oxygen content. I suppose a modified form of inhaler might work in the short term, but that still wouldn’t solve the underlying problem of why her system isn’t accepting oxygen - it’s not as though we’re short of it!”

“I wouldn’t presume to know the medical field, doctor, but can you put an..implant or something, to help absorb the oxygen?”

Julian shook his head, “Not until I’ve worked out a way to improve her oxygen intake that her body won’t violently reject - hybrid physiology is always delicate, and when the parent species differ this much it gets even moreso. There’s a reason most cross-species couples in the Federation prefer to go for gene-splicing, even when natural reproduction is a possibility.”

Garak nodded, but as he couldn’t add anything further, he politely excused himself back to his shop, giving a nod to the still glaring Nurse Rijal as he passed her. Rij turned to him once Garak was out of sight, “Why did you tell him anything?”

“He’s her father. He has a right to know.”

“ _You’re_ her father, doctor! You’re the one raising her, even if he _is_ the biological donor.” The way she said that last part said in no uncertain terms that she doubted that. “You were forced into saying he was by Dukat, probably as part of the private war between those two, but you don’t need to take it seriously, you know.”

Julian huffed out a breath and checked on the simulation again - still not quite finished - before replying. “Why not? He certainly seems to take the responsibility seriously. And as for being forced into this...well, it wasn’t as if Garak wasn’t already looking after Mila most of the time while I was away. Nothing’s really changed. And he _is_ very good with her.”

“But to allow medical access only permitted to medical staff and families? Isn’t that taking the situation a bit far?”

“Legally, he is family. That _is_ how these co-parenting arrangements work.” The simulation was done now - good, it started out well, but the sequence trailed off a little towards the end - he’d need to rework that, maybe change the balance of chemicals before they could move on.

Rij shook her head, “I’ll never understand how you can do it, doctor.” Thankfully that seemed to be the end of the discussion about his relationship with Garak, a confusing thing to the outside on a good day. It wasn’t much less confusing from the inside, a lot of the time. Certainly Julian couldn’t explain why, when he would freely admit he didn’t trust Garak as far as he could throw him most of the time, he’d chosen to trust him with Mila’s life, but he had done, and so far Garak had not let him down.

Should he ever get the feeling that he might, well, now Jadzia had accepted being a godmother he had a contingency in place. Now to get through the current crisis and put possible future crises aside for another time. There was a flaw in the model - where was it? The simulation had held through the first quarter, and the second, so where... _there_. That was it. Now, causation. What would cause that reaction?

Finding solutions to problems was one of the best things about being a doctor out here, and especially knowing those solutions _mattered_. Still, there wasn’t much triumph in it for him just then. It took him another hour, but he found it, though his eyes were starting to ache. Replicating a hypo was the work of moments. Mila was still asleep when he stepped back out into the ward, another Klingon being treated two beds over for what looked like most of a bat’leth embedded in his shoulder. The hypo went in easily, and her breathing began to slow and deepen. Just slightly, this early, but it was a hopeful sign. He still hadn’t found the cause. He didn’t know how long one hypo would last - whether the condition would be chronic or not - but it eased something in him, to see her breathe easily again.

It meant this was something that could be fixed, treated. That this wouldn’t take her from him as he’d begun to fear. For the first time all day, Julian himself breathed a little easier.

**Author's Note:**

> There may possibly be a companion work to this later, with Garak's thoughts during this ordeal. Takes place during Blood Oath, hence all the mentions of Klingons aboard the station.


End file.
